The Obligatory Red Mesan Humour Fic
by Mesan
Summary: Follow the Advance Wars CO's (and those jerks from Red Mesa) through the dumbest fic ever contrived. [Chapter 6: The Great Coffee Annexe Part 3 Final.]
1. Why CO Shade Should Never Write Humour

Author Note: Heh, a humour fic. Let's see if I can turn my hand to these. Then again, it'll probably not get full recognition like the rest of my work... -Sigh-

Shade: Less moping, more typing.

...Shut up.

The Obligatory Red Mesan Humour Fic, Chapter 1: Why CO Shade Should Never Write Humour. EVER.

The dark-clothed individual sat at his computer, typing lethargically. Once in a while he paused to correct a spelling mistake or take a drink of sweet, sweet coffee, then resumed typing again. "Mumble...rassin' frassin' Crusade War...frassle rassle...need to type faster..." CO Shade paused as a thought struck him. He could just leave The Crusade War where it was for now, and alleviate his writer's block...by writing a humour fic.

CRACK-BOOOOOOOOOOM!

"GAH! DAMMIT!" The aforementioned author fell of his chair at the resulting crack of thunder. "Why did that happen? All I said was 'humour fic'-"

CRACK-BOOOOOOOOOOM!

"GAUGH! What in the name of high school football?!" He cried, crawling under the computer desk and curling up into a fetal position, "It can't be that bad, can it?"

_Oh yes it can._

"Great, now I have a muse. Juuuuust peachy." CO Shade smacked himself in the head to try and remove said muse."Ow." Not very smart, seeing as his muse was inside his now bruised cranium.

And then, just to compound the author's misery, the lights went out.

"Oh, bugger it."

---

"MUHAHAHAHAAAAA!" Sturm laughed heartily. "Merry Christmas!" He paused, realising what he had just said. Adding that to the fact that he was dressed in a jolly, red-and-white rendition of his usual military uniform, and was breathing snowflakes, he quickly came to the conclusion that he was in yet ANOTHER humour fic. "For the love of...why Father Christmas? Why?"

_Scratch that, why is Sturm even here?_

"I'll tell you why!" Sturm cried. "To bring festive cheer and happy holidays to all! Ho ho ho!" The Lord of Snifits froze in shock. "I did NOT just say that."

_No, I mean, he's dead. Hawke killed him._

Sturm went pale - well, his armour looked slightly lighter than usual. Maybe it was the baubles he was covered in.

"Oh crap."

_See? Plotholes already!_

CO Shade's muse was quickly annoying Sturm (Version 2.5, Christmas Edition). The Darth Vader/Father Christmas/Overgrown Toaster/Snifit Lord-a-like decided to rectify this slight problem quickly, cleanly, and efficiently.

"METEOR STRIKE!!"

_Quickly? Cleanly? Efficiently?_

Well, we ARE talking about Sturm here. He's not the brightest bulb in the box.

_But...I'm a muse! You can't hurt m-OH DEAR GOD MY LEGS!!!_

Satisfied, Christmas Sturm turned back to his desk, where he continued to make toys for all the good CO's, and coal for all the bad ones. "Stupid author," grumbled Sturm, "I'm finishing my plans to take over Wars World!" Sturm laughed merrily, snowflakes flying everywhere, and picked up his pencil. Little did he know, his overly clichéd plan to take over Wars World was doomed. Not by that fact that everyone knows he'll balls it all up somewhere along the line, but by the fact that he had set off anti-cliché alarms in the author's head. "I can hear you, you know," said Strum. "Hey! I'm Sturm, not Strum! For crying out loud, that has to be the most overused Advance Wars joke ever!" the robot CO shook his head exasperatedly and returned to his work, because he's a cissy who doesn't stand up for himself.

"Hey!"

Sue me.

Sturm then proceeded to file a lawsuit against the author, who paid him compensation consistingof six horses, a monkey, and a fairy to put on his head. Sturm returned the favor by throwing his worker elves at him, and denying him presents for the coming Christmas.

---

Shade sighed contentedly. Life was good. Despite the best efforts of the author, who had insisted that life after Advance Wars: Red Mesa had to be absolute hell for him, he had managed to get into the humour fic unscathed. No Twilight/Shade duality making him out to be a psychotic wreck, no long-distance teleportation from a satellite burning up in re-entry, no having to fight his allies...yes, life was good. Shade could do whatever he wanted, there were no wars to fight this week (it was a slow week for War, although Famine, Death and Pestilence were doing well), and he was using the Event Horizon to mess about with, and endanger, the very fabric of reality on a daily basis. Yes, life was good.

"...THIS PROGRAM HAS ENCOUNTERED AN ILLEGAL ERROR?!" Shade switched from 'content' to 'absolutely freakin' furious' in a split second. "Zero-point-two-four-six seconds, to be precise," said Leonard Nimoy, who promptly resolved his unexpected appearance by throwing himself out of the window, where he flew away in much that same way that brick's don't. Shade raised an eyebrow, then turned back to his computer. "Dammit...I'd nearly fragged that guy as well! DAMN YOU, HALOOOOOO!! DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!!"

Outside Shade's room, the rest of the Red Mesan CO's looked at each other knowingly. "Multiplayer rage," Swift said.

---

Olaf sighed contentedly and leaned back in his musty, creaking, old command chair. Life was good. "That line is getting repetitive," he half grumbled, half burbled, because he was so fat and ugly. "Hey!"

And was the approximate weight of a Boeing 747.

"Stop that!" Olaf cried, because he was a big baby who ate too much and had terrible hygiene. "It's really damaging my mental state!" Grit walked in in the middle of all of this, and raised an eyebrow at the distraught Olaf, apparently yelling at nothing. Grit then leaned on the frame of the doorway - and missed, because he sucked at aiming.

_That has got to be the dumbest contradiction ever._

Aren't you supposed to be under a meteor right now?

_Uhh...plothole._

Figures. Anyway, Grit pulled himself back up onto his feet, only to see Olaf stuffing his face with ice cream. "Why, may ah ask, are ya doin' that?" Grit said in his unintelligible Southern accent. "Stop that, author guy. Ah'm just asking a simple question." The author relented, and Olaf stopped shovelling Carte D'or into the hole in his face long enough to speak. "I'm eating because it makes me feel better," he said sulkily. "The author said I was fat and ugly and loads of other mean things." Grit sighed. He knew what was coming. Olaf put on his Scottish accent, stopped eating, and took a deep breath:

"I can't stop eeeeating! I eat because I'm unhappy, but I'm unhappy because I eeeat. It's a vicious cycle..." Having finished imitating Fat Bastard, Olaf started stuffing his face again, only to pause a few seconds after, a look of pain and terror upon his face.

"BRAAAAAAIN FREEEEEEEEEEEZE!!"

Grit slapped his hand to his forehead in exasperation. What he forgot was that his revolver, being permanently fused to his hand by the demons at Intelligent Systems' Art Department, promptly knocked him out cold. Whoops. Olaf looked concerned for a second. Digging his spoon into the tub of ice cream and realising it was empty, Olaf's face lit up. They had pork rinds!

"TO THE FRIDGE!!" Olaf heaved his considerable bulk out of his chair - to quote David Duchovny, "The rippling is almost hypnotic." - and, Godzilla-style-earth-shaking step after Godzilla-style-earth-shaking step, he thundered down the corridor of the HQ, towards the canteen.

"Ugh...darn cats...get those rats..." With a groan, Grit stood up, sporting a red, revolver-shaped mark on his forehead. "Ow. I need a nap." Leaving Olaf's office and suantering down the corridor lazily, Grit made his way to his 'sleepy room'. It was his own personal, specially designed rest room, equipped with blubber sensors to detect an approaching killer whale (or Olaf), mood lighting, a wall filled with shelf upon shelf of cigarettes, and more. In the center, was _it_. The Couch. Grit's Nap Couch. The cause of many early-morning arguements between Grit and Olaf, Grit's Nap Couch was just that: the Couch where Grit would lie asleep for days on end (his best record was two weeks). Grit sighed contentedly as he unbolted the small, fiddly lock, specially made to be to small for Olaf's blubbery fingers to open, and walked in. Life was good.

_If you say that one more time, I swear..._

Olaf burbled happily like a baby has he shovelled dozens of packets of pork rinds into the logic-defyingly large pockets of his winter coat. Life was good.

_STOP SAYING THAT!!!_

Olaf turned to leave the canteen, rustling like a tree in autumn due to the hundreds of packets stuffed into his coat. The staff of the canteen, and the soldiers dining, watched in disbelief as the giant, blue-coloured ball of coat and fat shuffled rustlingly towards the exit, giggling happily to himself. The staff tried to stop him, and one even dared to reach into one of his pockets, but-

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGH! PORK RINDS!!!" Olaf, being a tactical genius, decided to act accordingly.

"AUGH! MY FACE!!" The poor staff member was flung into a wall by the manical Olaf. Now that all threats to his precious pork rinds were neutralised, he burbled happily, turned, and with a rustle of his coat, left the canteen. One soldier in particular looked rightly disturbed.

"This is the end for Blue Moon. Olaf's finally reached the Terrible Two's." The other soldiers made to nod and agree, when a ear-splitting and girly scream shook the walls of the HQ, shattering the windows, and making Olaf jump. And when Olaf jumps-

CRRRRRUNCCCCHHHH!!

-You know something's going to break.

"My...pork rinds..." Olaf looked like he was going to have a mental breakdown, but steadied himself. He took out the packets of pork rinds, flung them to the side of the corridor, and ran towards the source of the scream - Grit's Nap Couch Room. "OLAAAAAF SMASH!!" The door, although having locks Olaf would normally not be able to open, wasn't built for impacts with the approximate force of a Tomahawk missile. Olaf, despite having enough momentum to kill an adult rhino, screeched to a halt as he took in the scene before him. Grit was pale and shaking, a quivering finger pointing to the figure sleeping on the Couch. Olaf raised an eyebrow, and was about to return to his sweet, beloved pork rinds, when -

"Hisssss...what'sss all the noissse about?" Adder opened his eyes and looked around him. To his horror, he realised he was clad in nothing but a set of purple, crotch-hugging boxers.

_Looks like a hysterical scream is in order._

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

_Thought so._

Adder screamed hysterically, eyes wide and arms flailing like a pale, anorexic fish in urgent need of back therapy. Grit flailed around like a moron as well, the combined hysterical screams threatening to shatter the windows. In the midst of all this, Colin, Blue Moon's equivalent to Richie Rich, walked in, sporting a cane, hat, and fur coat. Yes, Colin was a pimp. How else could he get so rich?

Colin took one look at the scene, glanced at the pale-faced, stock-still Olaf, and sighed.

"Look's like a humour fic's goin down in tha' hood!"

End of Chapter 1

_Hey, how is that the end? I thought-_

CO Shade's muse was cut off by the author clicking 'Save'. He leaned back, sighed, and smiled.

Life was good.

Author Note: So, what do you think? Read and review, and you may even get a cameo!

Shade: ...No. Just no.

Ignore him, people. In Chapter 2, Colin takes the lead on deciding what to do with Adder. And no, Colin's not pimping him...

Colin: Like all mah' other hoes, brutha!


	2. Pimp Colin In Adder Trouble

Author Note: Yay! Good reviews, and lot's of 'em! I would throw a party, but I'm too busy.

Shade: Spoilsport.

...I hope you've enjoyed the use of your legs...

The Obligatory Red Mesan Humour Fic, Chapter 2: Pimp Colin In - Adder Trouble.

"Heh," CO Shade said as he typed. Life was good."This fic is actually pretty good. At least, my reviewers say so."

_Aren't you forgetting someone? And stop saying 'life was good'. It's getting tedious._

"Gah!" CO Shade jumped slightly as his muse spoke. "Stop doing that!"

_Sorry. But, you have forgotten about something you were going to add._

CO Shade 'ohed' and nodded. "Yeah...very well, time to call in some favours..." He chuckled as he reached for the phone...

And then, the lights went out.

"Oh, bugger it."

---

Hawke smiled slightly as he raised the mug of glorious, majestic, black, swirling, steamy, hot, sweet, dreamy, glorious coffee to his lips. Life was good.

_Stop saying that! Also, you said 'glorious' twice._

...Literary licence. Anyway, Hawke allowed himself that small smile as a present for keeping his weekly caffiene intake so low. Even as the black gold spirited him away to a pretty place where the coffee beans grow under a caffiene sun, where chocolate bunnies frolicked and played (until they died of caffiene overdoses), he was aware of a certain miniscule, afroed person appearing in the doorway to his office, but he ignored Lash, too intent on his inner journey to nirvana to really care.

That is, until-

"HI HAAAAWKE!!"

Crash.

Hawke, although he was the most unemotional person on the planet (bar none, not even several British Prime Ministers I know), could not hide his triple-whammy of shock, despair, and homicidal rage. His eyes bugged out as he looked over the shattered remains of his coffee. "My...my..." He looked at Lash. The pint-sized, psychotic inventor with an apparent death wish was grinning widely. "Yeeeeeeeeees?"

"Out. Now." Hawke was barely in control of himself. What he wanted to do was grab Lash by her labcoat, hand her to Flak, and tell him to use the new scrubber on all the toilets in the HQ. He pointed an imperious finger, and stepped forward, onto the remains of his mug.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, there is something you must know about Hawke's coffee. Being a potent mix of sugar, caffiene and god knows what else, this concoction was unlike the coffee normally drunk by you or me. Scientists all over Wars World have tried to test the strength, and usually disappear soon afterwards, their labs replaced by smoking cocoa craters. Hawke's coffee is so strong it has more acidic strength per liter than most oven cleaners (which is really alkaline anyway, but screw chemistry.) Which means-

Crack!

"AGH!"

-Hawke has now broken his ankle in the hole the coffee has burnt in the floor. Ouch.

Lash giggled. "Now I get to play nurse!"

"..." Hawke's face was stuck in a silent scream for the next thirty minutes.

---

"So, shiznizzles, what are we gonna do with our home boy Adder here?" Said Colin the Pimp, twirling his came around and smacking Olaf in the face repeatedly. "Ow. Ow. Well, ow, we, ow, should, ow! Stop doing that!" Olaf growled/spluttered/munched. He had fetched his pork rinds from the previous chapter, and was eating them like they were his last meal on earth. Which it could be, taking a look at his cholesterol levels.

"Hey!" Olaf said, throwing the now-empty packet onto the growing pile in the center of Grit's Nap Couch Room. "It's glandular!" Grit sighed. "Boss, everythin's glandular with ya'. Your beard, your ineptness at commanding, the price of pork rinds...say, where is Adder anyways?" Grit looked around. Colin twirled his cane one more time, smacked the packet out of Olaf's hands, and pointed at the pile of empty packets. "In there, dawg!" As Olaf dived for his packet, Grit strained to listen. Yes, there were faint screaming sounds coming from the depths of the pile. A few seconds later-

"Two-point-oh-four seconds, to be precise," Said Leonard Nimoy, who again resolved his sudden apperance by imploding, then exploding into pink smoke that drifted away.

-Anyway, a few seconds later, Adder's head erupted out of the pile of pork rind packets, gasping for breath. "My face...it's, it's ruined...it smells of pork rinds..." He heaved his revolting, putrid, ghastly body out of the pile, making everyone cringe and turn away, and looked at them. Oh, it can't be that bad, can it?" Adder said, turning to admire himself in the mirror.

"AAAAIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"

---

"Heeeeeeeeyyy!" Said Andy, as Shade finished securing the ropes tying him to the pole. "Is this safe?" Shade looked around shiftly, eyes darting to and fro. "...Sure...now, I'll just descend back to ground level and leave you here." As Shade was signalling to for the platform he was on to go down, Andy started to whine. "Wait! What am I here for again?" Shade sighed, slapped a hand to his face, and looked up at the most moronic CO in living history (save Flak...actually, no. He IS the most moronic.)

"I'm going to tie you to the lightining rod on our HQ."

"Why?"

"Because then we'll see if you really _do_ have a brain."

"...Wait..."

"Right, cheerio!" Shade grinned and whistled. "Stay conscious as long as you can, you'll really help our weather scientists!" Andy looked visibly...stupid, as Shade descended out of sight. "But it's cold up here, and I'm hungry..."

_You're not going to...oh god, you really are a sadistic bastard._

Shade gave a disturbing grin. "It took you that long to find out?" He stepped off the platform, and walked inside the Red Mesan HQ. "Now, let's wait until a storm comes along..."

---

"...So we call up our homie Hawke, tell him we have his brutha, and ransom the shizznizzle for a load of bling, fo' sho'!" Colin said as he detailed his plan to the others. Adder would have protested, but he was currently tied to a chair using a pair of Olaf's long johns. Said Adder was currently screaming like a loon (as much as he could, having been gagged with a packet of Olaf's Jelly Babies), eyes bulging and staring a suspicious skidmark on his makeshift bonds...

"Well than ya'll, let's do this!" Grit said, heaving the screaming Adder onto his back, and departing with the others for the Communications room, a few metres down the hallway.

"MMMMmmmmmffff!"

"Oh, shut up."

---

Half an hour later, the trio (hysterical Adder in tow) piled into the Comm Room. "Half an hour, dawg!" cried Colin. "Grit, why'd ya let our boy Olaf here take a detour to the canteen again?" Grit shrugged. "It shuts him up." Indeed, Olaf was relatively quiet, happily content with shoving Pop Tarts into his face. Only the faint muching sounds and gurgles of happiness could be heard from the undulating pile of flubber.

"Right, mo' fo's, let's do this!" Colin keyed in the frequency for Black Hole on the main computer, and waited.

_Connecting to Internet Explorer..._

SKREEEEEEEEEEE-AGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-RRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEARRRRRRRRRRRR!

Click.

_Connected._

"DAMN YOU, DIAL-UP!! YOU SHIZZNIZZLING BUNCH OF-" Colin stopped mid-rant and stared at the figure on the screen in abject terror.

Master of the Phoenix looked back. "Yes?"

Colin was the first to compose himself. "W-well, homie, we kinda have your boy Adder here with us. We're holding him to ransom, dawg!" Phoenix nodded. "Hawke said you would call soon. His ankle is broken, and Lash is looking after him. Flak's busy not thinking of things, so, being a cameo, they put me in charge of the negotiations."

"..." Adder's face was twisted in a frozen scream of mingled shock, terror, and sudden loss of hope.

"Uh...Adder? There's no sound coming out of your mouth."

"_Breathe_, buddy, _breathe._"

---

End of Chapter 2

_I'm actually scared to be your muse. You're sadistic and crazy._

The author grinned. "Now you see what happens when the author has too much free time, eh?"

_That's the point. You don't._

CO Shade blanched. "Homework...oh crap."

---

Author Note: Well, how was that? Good? Review if you wanted, you may get a cameo as well.

Phoenix: Adder...breathe, buddy...

In Chapter 3, we find out what happened to Andy...and Eagle takes a holiday in Yellow Comet!


	3. Holidays, Cameos, and Romance, oh my!

Author Note: Okay, this is the last plotless chapter before my first story arc. Cameo requests will not be accepted until the arc is complete.

Shade: Don't worry, Chrono CO and Keeper of the Scarf, you got in. Woo. Partay.

Ignore him, he's low on sugar.

The Obligatory Red Mesan Humour Fic, Chapter 3: Holidays, Cameos, and Romance, oh my!

We join CO Shade as he is writing the current chapter. "Aw man, I'm so behind...just where did all the time go?"

_You watched Fahrenheit 9/11. SIXTY TIMES._

The author twitched, then shuddered. "Stop reminding me."

_I didn't! That's the first time I've said anything at all today! Dumbass._

"You know, I would smack myself in the head,but I've still got this hate letter to send to President Bush."

_You know, the longer the wait between each chapter, the more bored your fans will get._

"Eh, it's their loss," CO Shade said, typing. "Now, to save."

And then, the lights went out.

"Oh, bugger it."

-

Several thousand miles away, a certain President smiled, having flicked a switch. "That'll shut that dang author up. Now, where's mah colouring book?"

-

"Haaaaaaaawke! It's time for your medicinnnnnneee!" The shrill cry rang out around the Black Hole HQ, shaking every soldier within half a mile to the very core. Hawke himself froze in the middle of his 25th mug of coffee, his broken ankle propped up on a stool. "Why God...why?" He moaned. "Why couldn't Sturm have hired a less psychotic CO?"

"Ho ho hoooo! Because you've been a bad boy this year! So you're not getting any presents!" Hawke's eyes bugged out in mingled shock, fear, and disgust as Christmas Sturm bounded into the room, spraying snowlflakes everywhere. "You know, that made absolutely no sense."

"How so?"

"You're saying that you hired Lash because I've been a bad boy."

"Yes?"

"_This year._ Quite a while after you hired her in the first place."

"Uhh...yeah," Sturm said, looking side-to-side shiftily. "Slip of the tongue." He looked to the side, and hid his time travel device in a nearby bin. "Anyway, where was I?" Hawke would have rolled his eyes, but he was still scared. Not that he would admit it. Sissy.

"I'll ignore that. You were about to go away and not remember that I killed you." Hawke silently prayed that...

"...Crap."

Sturm's eyes bulged. "GACK! Memories...flooding back...I played football for West Germany? Weird...wait, here we are...Fall of Communsim, Death Ray, Andy...AHA!" Chrsitmas Sturm whirled around from his pacing, surrounded by those cool anime streaks. "You DID kill me!"

"...Oh crap." Hawke tried to lift himself up from his seat, but tripped, stumbled, and-

CRACK!

"AGH!"

-Broke his other ankle. Dumbass. Sturm laughed merrily, snowflakes raining on Hawke's twitching body. "And now to finish you off!" Sturm took a long, deep exhale, (that lasted half a minute)-

"Half a minute and five-point-oh-four-two seconds, to be precise," said Leonard Nimoy, who pranced, hopped, skipped and jumped through a nearby wall. Sturm, lungs bursting, raised an eyebrow - well, lightbulb - shrugged, and turned to Hawke's prone body.

"SUPER MEGA ULTRA KAMEHAMESMASH DECAPITATION DISCOMBOBULATION PLASTIC FANTASTIC CRYPTIC APOCOLYPTIC FURIOUS INJURIOUS SPIRIT BOMB KI CHANT FIREBALLS OF DEATHLY DOOMNESS-" Sturm exhaled and took in a breath - "FROM SPACE!"

Sturm watched in festive glee as the lump sum of the author's special effects budget rushed down a tunnel of shiny anime streaks toward Hawke-

Beep beep!

"Ooo! Lunch time!" The Super Mega Ultra Kame - ah, screw it - The Very Powerful Attack faded into nothingness, along with the author's special effects budget, as Sturm merrily strode off to his Death Sleigh of Doom to fly back to his workshop.

Hawke groaned. "Why me..."

-

A few thousand miles away(again), a portly, bearded American grasped a colouring book and grinned. "Now I've got more than enough material for my next movie..."

-

"So let me get this straight Eagle. You're leaving for a holiday."

"Yes."

"In Yellow Comet."

"Yes."

"With Shade bored?" Jess wouldn't admit it, being a stupidly fervent Eagle-hater, but she was concerned. With Shade having nothing to do after tying Andy to the lightning rod, Eagle was in severe danger, being No. 2 on the 'CO Shade Hitlist of Smashing, Punishment, Breaking of Bones and General Mayhem'. Eagle raised an eyebrow. "I'm the Prince of the Skies, Jess. Shade can't touch me." To prove this point, he lashed out behind him, smacking Shade in the face. "GACK!"

It was Jess' turn to raise an eyebrow. "How the heck did he get here?" Putting her surprise aside, she began to kick Shade. Very hard. In the ribs.

Eagle sighed at the scene as he picked up his suitcase and went out the door. "He'll never learn..."

"Ow! OW! OW! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! THAT WAS MY EXTRA RIB!"

-

It was a dark and stormy night.

_Need I say, 'cliché'?_

Shut up. Anyway...the rain poured down in icy sheets, the wind howled and struck the windows of the Red Mesan HQ fiercly, the lightning casting eerie shadows in the dark twilight of the storm.

_Actually, that was quite good. Seems like you still have it, after all._

Swift, Cougar, and Diesel gazed out of the windows as one, cringing at the occassional whining that could be heard above the noise of the storm.

"Heeeeeyyy! Can anyone hear me? I'm still up here!"

Swift looked at the others. "Should we...?"

"Nah. Shade put him up there, and Shade always knows best." Cougar chuckled. He froze. "Did I just say that?" He looked up at the ceiling and shook a fist. "Damn you, author!" He then turned and ran crying out of the room, because he's a moron who had no chance against the author's godly powers. YOU HEAR ME! GODLYYYYY!

_You know, you'll have to pay for his therapy._

"Erm, main plot focus is HERE, guys." Swift sighed as she paced. She stopped, and turned to Deisel. "Do you think Andy will survive tonight?"

"Does the Pope crap in the woods?"

"...Indeed." Deisel nodded. "Especially with the C4 that Shade...'accidentally'...wired to the lightning rod." Almost at once, there was a horrified yell from above.

"WHAT! GET ME DOOOOOOWN!"

CRACK-BOOOOOOOM!

"AGH! IT BURNS! Yet it's somewhat tingly..."

Deisel grinned. "Wait for it..."

Beepbeepbeep!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"AAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHhhhhhh..." Andy's horrified scream faded away as the most stupid CO in living history was flung several kilometers by the resulting blast.

..._Vertically._

-

Eagle sighed as he descended the steps from the plane. Yellow Comet was a nice country, yes, but some of the inhabitants...he shuddered as he remembered who one of the passengers was...

(Cool flashback effect)

_Eagle smiled and closed his eyes, contented with the flight. He was in first class, the drinks were superb, and-_

_"I ORDERED STILL WATER! ARG!"_

_Eagle jerked out of his seat, and several other passengers gasped and pointed at the raging figure berating one of the flight staff._

_"The Chrono CO...great..." Eagle jumped back into his seat and hid from the raging cameo. "Author Shade has a lot of explaining to do." The author resented this, but was too busy writing other parts of the fic to think of a suitable punishment. Instead, he just made the luggage compartment above Eagle's head open, dumping a set of bowling balls on his head._

_"GAUGH! DAMMIT! Who brings bowling balls with them anyway!" Eagle rubbed his head and groaned as the rampaging cameo lunged at random victimes, turning them into werewolves. "Great..."_

_(End cool flashback effect)_

Eagle shuddered. "At least Flak was on the plane to restrain him..." Flak waved as he went towards the terminal. "See ya, bird boy!" Eagle nervously waved back. "Uh...yeah...just don't go invading!" Flak looked hurt - yes, that _is_ in his cerebral capability - and spoke. "I'm just here for a holiday! With Hawke's ankle broken, dere's nothin' for me ta do!" Eagle raised an eyebrow, and grinned. "Heh...Hawke's a wuss."

_Wait for it..._

**"Black Storm!"**

"GAH!" Eagle ducked as a wave of energy flew over him. "I take it baaaack!"

-

"So, what to we do now, Boss?" Grit sighed and tried to spin his revolver. Instead, Grit being rubbish at guns, it flew out of his hand, ricocheted of the window, and smacked Olaf in the nose. "GAUGH!" The mound of blubber cried, rocking from the impact like a Weeble-Wobble. "What do you mean, you lazy hick!"

"Well, Black Hole don't want Adder back. I can see their reasoning."

"Well, do you think WE want him here?" The Weeble - sorry - Olaf said. "It's Adder!" He gestured to the room adjoining his office, through the double doors. "Yeah, I know," Grit said, stooping to pick up his gun, and falling over. "Ow." He stood up and looked toward the double doors. "Wait...can you hear that, Boss?"

"Hmm?" Olaf sat up fom his chair (which was a few seconds from collasping) -

"Two-point-oh-seven-six seconds, to be precise," Said Leonard Nimoy, who promptly turned into a weasel and ate himself out of existence -

And turned towards the doors. Straining, he could hear faint sounds of...oh no.

_"My darling Colin, must we stay here when we could be alone together in my love mansion?"_

_"I do not know, my love. Maybe when they learn about us they will let us go."_

"...Th-they..." Olaf struggled to find words. "It's...it's..."

Grit looked around quickly. There was only one thing that could explain for this...

"Aha! Look here Boss!" Grit triumphantly waved a scarf in front of Olaf's face. Olaf blanched, then shook a fist at the sky.

"DAMN YOU, KEEPER OF THE SCARF!"

"There's no need to yell, I'm right here."

"GACK!" Olaf jumped -

THUD-BOOOOOOM!

- Causing an earthquake in Orange Star, and span to face the cameo. "How did you get here?" Keeper of the Scarf rolled his eyes, then immediately fell over."My eyes! Where did they go?" As the cameo searched for the very eyes he had rolled just a few seconds earlier, Grit sighed.

"If there was a Nobel Prize for stupidity..."

"Hey, there they are." Keeper of the Scarf plpped his eyes back in and turned to face Olaf. "I am here by the request of Author Shade," He said pompously, producing a legal document. "Section Three-Eighteen of the Cameo Request Code. I'm here to make Colin and Adder fall in love." Grit shuddered at that. "How could you? I mean, _Colin and Adder!_ That's so wrong on so many levels!" Keeper of the Scarf shrugged. "Meh, blame AuthorShade. He's the one behind eveything that happens." Olaf growled like an elephant seal. "That's it," he said. "We're declaring war on Author Shade!" Grit slapped his hand - no, not _that_ hand - to his forehead.

"Dumbass."

-

End of Chapter 3

Author Shade growled. "Declare war against me, will he?"

_It's your fault. You wrote him saying that._

Shade smacked himself in the head. "Shut up!"

"...Owie..."

-

Author Note: Mweeheehee. Olaf has no chance against the Author Army! MUHAHAHAH!

Shade: What army?

(Creates army) This one. (Grins)

Shade: ...I hate you.

The feeling is mutual. Anyway, the next chapter is the beginning of the first story arc: The Great Coffee Annexe!


	4. The Great Coffee Annexe Part 1

Author Note: The first story arc is underway! Laugh at Hawke's injuries, cry when Christmas Sturm becomes Sturm 2005, yell when Shade actually wins for once!

Shade: You forgot to mention Olaf's declaration of war against you.

...Well, yeah, there's that as well...

The Obligatory Red Mesan Humour Fic, Chapter 4: The Great Coffee Annexe, Pt. 1.

"So, Olaf's rallying his troops agains me, eh?" Author Shade was in 'devious' mode.

_Well, yeah, seeing as you made it so with your writing. Dumbass._

"May I remind you that I have a Muse Exterminator on speed-dial?" Scratch that, 'threatening' mode.

_You don't, actually. That's the local Domino's Pizza._

"Aw, shaddup." The Author was about to use Ctrl-S to save when -

- the lights went out.

"Oh, bugger it."

---

Several thousand miles away (like last time), a certain President grinned. Life was good.

_For the love of...SHUT UP!!_

"Ah don't like ta side with Commas, or whatever Daddy said they were," he said, "But ah like this Olaf guy!"

---

"Hey! Your fatty burgers almost killed my child!"

"Sorry, ma'am, but at McHachi's, you get what you're given. See?" The customer service guy jerked a thumb behind him to a large plaque, engraved with the message:

_'At McHachi'$, we give the cu$tomer's what they want. And if they don't like it...well, $crew them! HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!! - Hachi, re$ident Evil Overlord of Hachi Corp. ("Making a better future...for him.")'_

"...Ooooookayy..." the Olaf-sized woman said, reveberating like jelly in a paint mixer. "But I'm still gonna sue!"

"Why?"

"Because it's the Orange Star Way!" At the mention of this phrase, the whole of McHachi's spontaneously burst into a rendition of the Orange Star National Anthem:

_"Orange Star, we get the beeeeeeeest!_

_Orange Star, we bomb the reeeeeeest!_

_Orange Star, we'd better get good fooooood!_

_Orange Star, other wise we'll suuuuuue..."_

In the midst of all this, Shade made a face somewhere between 'what the crap?', and 'I'm surrounded by idiots'. As the singing died down, and everyone was feeling warm, patriotic, pro-Hachi and Capitalist, he said:

"That has GOT to be the most RETARDED song I have ever heard."

"Oh, you ain't seen nothin' yet, boy!" Everyone's head turned as Hachi himself, Lord, Master, Evil Overlord and Capitalism Incarnate (Ph.D, OBE, MBE) strode out from the rear of the fast food shop. Shade's eyes bugged out in seconds.

"Three-point-oh-five-four-six-three-one-four seconds, to be precise," said Leonard Nimoy.

A pause.

"Hmm...I should have disappeared by now..." this problem was resolved when Mr. Nimoy spontaneously combusted.

Shade sighed, and looked at Hachi again.

"Tell me Colin didn't redo your wardrobe..." Yes, it was true. Yet another CO looked like a pimp. Well, who could blame him for flaunting his wealth?

_The millions starving in poverty in Third World countries._

Well...this is Wars World. They don't exist.

_No, because Orange Star - well, Hachi - bombed them to get more money!_

Oh for the love of...fine, that's it. I''m changing the scene!

_But wait, what about Hachi? I thought you were gonna make him sing-_

_Click._

---

If you were anywhere near that particular branch of McHachi's, you would have noticed a small, localised nuclear explosion. Don't worry, Shade survived...

_So did Hachi. See?_

Hachi proves this statement by waving. "Nothing can kill me! I'm clinically immortal! No...wait...Capitalistically immortal! Yeah!" Shade slapped a hand to his face.

"Money making people immortal...what's next, a StarCraft crossover?"

Funny you should say that, I've been playing StarCraft recently...

"Oh crap..."

Psyche!

While Shade fumed, Hachi grinned. "I've just had a great new plan..."

"And what is that Your Cheapiness?"

"I'm going to annexe Hawke's coffee supply!" the sheer gravity of these words had a powerful effect...

---

_"I'm going to annexe Hawke's coffee supply!"_

"Hmm? I could have sworn I heard...eh..." Eagle sighed and laid back on his towel. "Sun makes me lazy."

---

_"I'm going to annexe Hawke's coffee supply!"_

"Egads!" Christmas Sturm was in shock, and spraying snowflakes everywhere. "It's the new year! I need a refit!"

A pause.

"Oh, and I need to SAVE THE DAY!"

Another pause.

"...After my refit." Sturm had a strong sense of priority.

---

_"I'm going to annexe Hawke's coffee supply!"_

"Oh great...he's at it again..." Nell sighed. "When will Hachi learn?"

---

"Okay, Andy. We're going to go over this again. Orange Star and Blue Moon are a _what?_"

"An incontinent!" Andy grinned. He _had_ to have got it right this time...

Sami sighed. "No, Andy. They're a _continent_. Incontinent is, well..."

"Well what?"

"I'll tell you when you're older." Sami rubbed the bridge of her nose. Her Chocolate Sense was acting up again. There was choclate near, she could feel it. But where...she scanned the classroom again. Nothing, apart from the Intelligence Antichrist that is Andy.

"Wait..." She stared at Andy.

"Uhm...Sami, why're you staring at me like that? Oh no..." Realisation dawned on his face (if that is at all possible). He reached into his pocket, and felt...

"Oh no..."

"CHOCOLATE!!" In the space of five seconds, Sami had lunged towards Andy, gripped him by the throat, and pinned him against the wall. "GIMMIE GIMMIE GIMMIE!!"

"Arggggghshaargle." Andy wasn't in a postion to negotiate. A grin lit up Sami's face as she pried the bar of Hachi-brand chocolate from his feeble grasp, and wolfed it down whole like a rabid animal. Think of the Cookie Monster and a massive pile of cookies, and you get the idea.

---

"Right, boys! You know where we're sailin'." Hachi grinned as his occupationary force filed into Landers. "We're off to annexe Hawke's coffee supply, and somehow..." he hadn't thought of how yet... "Somehow make money out of it!" he grinned, displaying a brand new gold tooth. Along with the other 20 -

"Twenty-point-three-four teeth, to be precise," Said Leonard Nimoy. "He has gum disease." Yet again, Mr. Nimoy spontaneously combusted.

Anyway, with the number of gold teeth he had,the glare was so bright Hachi carried a government health warning.

"Well, that's that. Follow the Black Coffee Road!"

---

Imagine rank upon rank of Blue Moon soldiers. Imagine them standing assembled in front of a podium. Now, imagine a person the approximate weight of a walrus, and twice as ugly-

"You see? THIS is why I'm declaring war against you!" Olaf cried, his gargantuan form shaking like...erm...

_You see? You've insulted him so much you don't have any material left._

Shut up, you whiny, pessimistic, metaphysical construct!

_...Owie..._

Olaf sighed. "If you're finished with your muse..." he growled, sounding rather threatening. If it weren't for the toffee apple he was munching, he might actually look scary. "Hey!" the mound of lard cried. "I'm not eating!" he took another bite out of the apple-

"HEY!"

- and started to address the soldiers. "Soldiers of Blue Moon!" he cried. "The Author has gone too far with his godlike powers and fat jokes! As of now, I'm declaring..." Olaf stopped. He felt a cold breeze...oh no. He looked down, and lo and behold...

"AHHHH! NO TROUSERS!!" the room burst into laughter as Olaf ran out of the room, as the Author attempted to remove Olaf's hat.

"DAMN YOU AUTHORS! WHY DO YOU MAKE ME SUCH A CISSY - HEY!" It was all too much. Olaf collapsed -

THUD!

- and started to cry uncontrollably, because of the hilarious abuse the author had unleashed on his person. The warbling, burbling, hideously obese -

_You can stop it now._

Huh?

_Olaf's going on...a diet._

Sure enough, Olaf had run to the nearest payphone, and was dialing the Weight Watchers helpline.

A pause.

_DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNN!_

---

End of Chapter 4

"...I...he..." Shade was in complete and utter shock.

_You pushed him too far, you moron. Now who are you going to insult on a regular basis?_

"...Heh..." Shade grinned as he thought.

_Oh no. You stay the HELL AWAY FROM ME!_

---

Author Note: Well, the beginning of the first story arc.

Shade: And you managed to get Olaf on a diet.

By insulting him and removing his trousers, no less. Hang tight for Chapter 5 people!


	5. The Great Coffee Annexe Part 2

Author Note: And here we go. I'm having to divert my attention to both my school work, this fic, and Whispers, so I won't be updating as much.

Shade: Or is it because you're lazy, hmm?

...I blame Fable.

The Obligatory Red Mesan Humour Fic, Chapter 5: The Great Coffee Annexe, Pt. 2.

"Hehehe...Hawke's gonna be pissed." Author Shade/MesanShade/whatever he heck he's calling himself right now was, of course, writing said CO's reaction.

Talking about Hawke...I thought his ankles were broken?

The Author raised an eyebrow and checked the previous chapters. "Darnit. Well," he said, typing. "I'll simply-"

-and yet again,the lights went out.

"Oh, bugger it."

---

Several thousand miles away, life was-

AAHHH! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!

BANG!

Thud.

Hmm, never thought he'd actually shoot himself. Ah well. Life is good.

---

"HE WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!" Hawke was yelling out of anger more than shock. Which was a surprise, seeing as he has the emotional capacity of a lemon. He jumped to his feet - forgetting that he was in a wheelchair for a reason.

"AAAHHHHHH!"

Thud.

"It burns..."

Adder sighed, rolled his eyes, and fell over. "My eyes! Where did they go?"

You've overused that gag.

Wait, I thought you died!

...I got better.

Figures. Anyway, Adder found his eyes (under Flak, who was busy eating the peices from a chessboard), popped them back in, and immediately looked confused. "Wait, I'm back here?"

"...Evil General in pain here..."

"But why? What brought me back here..." Adder looked around. Flak was now eating the chessboard, Lash was watching Barney, and Hawke...

"...Is on the floor. Someone help me before I bite all of your shins off." Hawke tried feebly to crawl towards his wheelchair, but ran out of breath, sighed, and passed out. Adder's eyes roved over the main room of the HQ. "Random soldier doing arbitrary motions in background, furniture with no purpose, Big Brother cameraman...aha!" His eyes fell upon a swirling anomaly in the center of the room. Seeing as it was large, with a psychedelic colour scheme and emitting small whining sounds every few seconds, it was a small wonder to how everybody managed to not notice it. Of course, Adder did, and chose the best course of action:

Screaming like a cissy.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

Oh, and flailing around like he was being electrocuted.

"PLOOOOOOOOOOOT HOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLEE!!"

Seeing as Christmas Sturm had used up most of our special effects budget last time, it was another small wonder how we could pay for the plothole as well.

Illegal money laundering using Swiss bank accounts.

Ah well, not that bad. Anyway, Adder was still flailing around like an idiot. And, like all good comedy scenarios like this one, nobody paid any attention to him.

"Mesa gonna save youse!"

Well, maybe one.

"Oh...no..." Adder froze. "He wouldn't..."

He would.

"Mesa Jar Jar Binks!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

---

While Adder was screaming in horror at Jar Jar (who wouldn't?), Hachi was busy comitting crimes. Said Hachi smiled as his troops took control of Hawke's massive coffee fields. "That's some fine coffee," he said. "Pity we have to ransom it. But hey, money makes the world go round!"

The Author disagreed with this. And so, like any chaotic and crazy Author with godlike powers, he decided to prove Hachi wrong. By nuking the Wars World Stock Exchange.

---

The Wars World Stock Exchange was a large, peaceful-looking skyscraper in Orange Star. Of course, it wouldn't be peaceful much longer...

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!

---

"!!!" Hachi gripped his heart suddenly. An officer looked at him. "You okay, sir?" Hachi shook his head.

"It's...as if...millions of bank notes cried out at once, and then were silenced..." Hachi went pale. "Uh oh, lawsuit." Of course, the ghost of Alec Guinness sued him for plagarism. Well, that's what you get when you steal from Star Wars.

Erm, if there's no money in Wars World, how can he file a lawsuit?

...Oh dear. I made a booboo, didn't I?

Yes. Yes you did.

Although money didn't the world go round, it seemed it was darn important anyway. So, the Author reversed the destruction of the Stock Exchange, and urged Alec Guinness to press charges.

But Hachi now has all the money he lost.

...Arse. Hachi paid several million G in compensation, and resumed his conquest of the world...I mean, Hawke's coffee.

---

"Ah! Commander Eagle! Kanbei is pleased you are holidaying in his country!"

"Oh Jesus...why?" Eagle groaned. He managed a grimace/smile and waved. "Hello, Emperor Kanbei. I needed a change of scenery from Green Earth. Plus, you have nice beaches." Eagle gestured at the golden white sands behind him.

"...Those are Kanbeis Mothers memorial dunes."

"...Meep." Eagles eye bulged as Kanbei produced an obscenely large sword out from nowhere.

If it was obscenely large, how could he pull it out of now-

Hey, hes a Japan-esque swordsman! Its one of the Three Anime Laws.

Three Anime Laws?

"Erm, ace pilot about to get slaughtered here..."

The Three Anime Laws are:

-You can conceal any weapon, no matter how large it is (or how little clothing you have), if you are cool enough.

-If you wear a bikini, you are invincible.

-No matter how evil you are, or long you power up and scream for, the good guys will never intervene. Period.

"WAAAA-TAAAAA!"

"EEE!! Noooooooooo!" Eagle shrieked like a little girl as Kanbei dashed homicidally towards him, screaming several obscenities in the space of a few seconds.

"Three-point-oh-zero obscenities per second, to be precise." Leonard Nimoy said, who then got sliced in half by the bloodthirsty Emperor.

"KANBEI IS THIRSTY FOR BLOOOOOOD!!"

They don't listen to a word you say, do they?

---

Sturm waved. "You're not supposed to change the scene to me yet."

Silence

"Hello?"

More silence.

"...I'm lonely...."

---

"HIIIIIII-YAAAAA!"

Clang! The sound of steel meeting concrete greets our ears as we return to the Benny Hill-esque chase going on in Yellow Comet.

-Cue Benny Hill music-

"AAAHHHHH!" Eagle was screaming out of sheer terror, shock, and the fact that George Bush got a second term. Yes, I take shots at him whenever I can. Deal with it.

"KANBEI IS ANGRY!!" Yelled the yellow-suited commander, in what was quite an understatement. "KANBEI...IS...getting...tired...ugggh..." How a glorified flyboy of a CO could outrun a far superior member of the same species -

"Hey!" Eagle yelled. "I'm not that unfit!"

- is beyond comprehension. The pair circled several pillars, before scooting up the steps to Kanbei's home. Which was quite a dumb move on Eagle's part, seeing as he's never visited the place before, and presumably, Kanbei knows every room, hallway, garden, toilet -

You're rambling again.

- Aw, be quiet. Let's just say that Eagle will have a lot on his hands...actually, he _already_ has a lot on his hands.

"WheredoIgowheredoIgowheredoIgowheredoIgoI'msoscrewedwheredoIgowheredoIgo..." Eagle was sprinting as fast as he could up and down the hallways of Kambei's palace, rambling like a madman. Well, he _is_ being chased by a sword-weilding Kanbei, so I think you can understand. Speaking of Kanbei...

THUNK! A wooden pillar suddenly became two wooden pillars, a victim of the homicidal Kanbei's rampage.

"KILL SLICE RIP TEAR MURDER PILLAGE!!"

A pause.

"...DRAGONBALL Z!!"

CRASH!

---

"Aha! Finally! I thought you'd never switch the scene to me again!"

A long, long silence.

"...Wait, you're not going to-"

---

Hachi stared in awe at the Himalayan-like mountain range of coffee around him. It stretched far into the distance, filling the massive warehouse to its ceiling, the brown powdery slopes looking like fresh snow. "So this is Hawke's personal stash of coffee..."

A pause.

"Who's up for coffeeboarding?"

---

Silence.

"...I hate you. First you scene switch to me early, then when you're supposed to, you switch to Hachi!" Sturm would have fumed, if he wasn't in the middile of his refit. "I mean, who would want to read about that cheapass huh?!"

"Well?!" Sturm raised a lightbulb, which was all he could do. "My limbs are being upgraded right now, but if I had arms I'd kick your ass."

There was a pause as the Author re-read the above speech.

"...What?!" Sturm then paused, realising what he'd said. "...Arg! Fine. If I had LEGS I'd kick your ass. I mean, who likes Hachi? He's cheap!"

"...Well, so am I...BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT! He's an old man who's a fervent Capitalist! I'm an evil alein badass snifit dude who likes to crush things, and fire-bomb orphanages! The people should like ME!" Sturm was ranting again, like any one-dimensional, evil-for-the-sake-of-it, stereotypical baddie.

"...I resent that."

You would.

"Ohh, you just wait until I get my new armour fitted. You're going down!"

A pause.

"...That's right...shake in fear! MUHAHAHAH!!"

The omnipresentchirp of crickets sounds. Sturm's expression becomes one of discouragement.

"...Erm...my name is Sturm? Hear it and tremble?"

_You really don't realise exactly how non-threatening you are right now, do you?_

"...I am SO gonna Meteor Strike your ass..."

---

End of Chapter 5

Sturm shook a mental fist. "You just waaaaaiiiit..."

You really like annoying them, don't you?

AuthorShade/MesanShade/CO Shade/Lamp Shade/whatever smiled innocently. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

---

Author Note: Well, looks like Sturm's back to normal.

Shade: I think Christmas Sturm was more likeable.

True, but he doesn't throw meteors at people for the sheer sake of it. In Chapter 6 , Hawke finally launches a daring operation to get his coffee back!

Shade: (Is silent, tapping his foot)

...Okay, he's sending in Flak and Adder. You happy now?!


	6. The Great Coffee Annexe Part 3 Final

Author Note: Ahhhh! Belated update!

Shade: Today he blames MechAssault 2.

…Yeah…anyway, this chapter is the end of the Great Coffee Annexe story arc. Finally...

Oh, and check out Falling From The Skies (a joint fanfic project I am in) and the Advance Wars Fanfiction LiveJournal Community. Whee.

The Obligatory Red Mesan Humour Fic, Chapter 6: The Great Coffee Annexe, Pt. 3 Final.

"Well, things have been slow in the Advance Wars section…" MesanShade mused, scrolling down a page on his browser.

_Yeah, but it's not exactly mainstream fanfiction, eh?_

"Quiet, you. Let me bask in the glory of our new broadband a little longer." The author sighed happily, basking in the warm glow of his monitor.

"You know, we should have got broadband earlier-"

The grin left his face as, once again, the lights went out.

"Oh, bugger it."

T-T-T-T-

Andy was whining. You know, the usual. "Why are we here?", "What's an airport?", "I'm boooooorrrreeed,", and all that crap.

"Heeeeeeeyyyyyy! That's meeeeaaaaann!"

_Now you've set him off.._

Oh, shut up. Andy was standing next to Sami and Max (who had fortunately used earplugs), overlooking the warehouse floor of Hawke's coffee stash. A small cloud of coffee-based smoke was zipping back and forth through the slopes of brown at incredible speed, and above the patter of footsteps, hyperactive burbling, giggling, and screaming could be heard. Sami turned to Max, wincing at Andy's whining as the removed her earplugs. Max did the same.

"What?" He asked.

"...How long has Hachi been drinking that stuff?"

Max turned back to look at the super-fast dust cloud, "...I'd say about three days."

"YingtongyingtongyingtongyingtongyingtongYIDDLE-I-POO!"

T-T-T-T-

_Hawke's Coffe Stash,_

_Night._

"Hsssss...why on earth are _we_ breaking into this place! We're the freakin' Black Hole Army! Nations fall at our feet! Countries burn at our whims! _We could crush this place with our massive army!_"

"Uhh...Adder, buddy..."

"Quiet! I'm ranting here! We are the masters of this pitiful planet! We have sixteen different Special Forces teams capable of regaining control of Hawke's coffee stash! We could throw ten divisions of our army at this place and wrest control of it in a measure of time too small to be recorded with even the most precise scientific instruments!"

"Adder..."

"AND INSTEAD, THEY'RE SENDING ME AND THIS STUPID EXCUSE OF DNA!"

**WHAP!**

"Shut up, Adder! Or I'll crush ya!"

"Ow...I see colours..." Adder said, seeing stars. Adder and Flak were crouching (well, splayed across the ground after being punched in Adder's case), peeking over the edge of a grassy verge, watching the Orange Star soldiers patrol the wire fences that guarded Hawke's Coffee Stash, which deserves capitalisation because Hawke is just _that_ good.

_Hawke just said, "Damn right."_

Tell him it's not time for his scene yet, so he'd better shut up.

_Okay..._

"This is borin'! I wanna go and crush those worms!" Flak made to move towards the assortment of warehouses, but Adder held him back. If that is at all possible.

"Flak you dolt! Don't you understand the meaning of the word 'stealth'!"

"...Yeah I do!"

"Well?"

"...Erm..."

Adder rolled his eyes and looked at his square-jawed associate, who was screwing his face up in concentration.

"...Errr..."

A pause.

"Nah, I lost it."

Adder slapped a hand to his forhead, sighed, and gave in. "Fine, fine, go ahead and crush the place. It'll be on your head if you damage the coffee..."

"Cool! Now I get ta crush stuff!"

"If you don't get shot dead first."

_Hawke just said, "Screw the Author, I'm Hawke. I can do whatever I want."_

Well, let's see him say that after I'm finished with him, eh?

_Just make sure he's alive afterwards-_

"**GGGGGRAAAAGGGHHH! FLAK CRUSH PUNY SOLDIERS!"**

The Author and his muse were interrupted by Flak, who was busy growing to three times his usual size, while also turning green. Let's thank God that his clothes haven't ripped. Adder was flabbergasted.

"The Flak...we have broken _so many_ copyrights with this..."

T-T-T-T-

_Meanwhile, at the North Pole..._

"MUAHAHAHAAA! MY REFIT IS COMPLETE!" Needless to say, Christmas Sturm V2.0 was in a good mood. Gone was the hastily-thrown-together Christmas decorations onto a festive recolour of Sturm. His new armour was complete red, his breathing pipes sported the red-and-white candycane design, his cloak as red with a white fur trim, and of course...

"I have a tinsel pimp scarf! OF DOOM!" Christmas Sturm wrapped said red glittering scarf around his neck, and assumed a heroic pose.

"Now to SAVE THE DAY!"

A pause.

"Now, where's my Sled-Mobile..."

T-T-T-T-

_In Kanbei's Imperial Palace..._

"GOD! IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH, DIDN'T IT!" Needless to say, Eagle was shaking like a leaf, cowering beneath the mighty figure of Kanbei, who raised his sword high above his head-

"Kanbei will punish puny flyboy for desecrating Mother's memorial dunes!"

and in Matrix-style, camera-rotating slow motion, swung it down.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOoooOOoooooOOO!" Eagle screamed.

_I wish I could scream in slow motion. It'd sound so cool._

Kanbei paused, and regarded Eagle with awe.

"You know the ancient art of Slow-Motion Screaming!"

"...Eh?" Having narrowly avoided death, Eagle naturally confused.

"I can see now that you are too powerful for me to defeat." And with that, Kanbei faded into the background, until the time a convenient plot device was needed again...

T-T-T-T-

In the skies over Black Hole, it was quiet. Well, as quiet as it could be, seeing as it was over one of the greatest military dictatorships on the planet. I mean, with all the fighter jets, cargo planes, screams of the dying in death camps-

_Will you please stop procrastinating?_

And take away my love of putting off things? Never!

A pause.

Wait...aren't we forgetting about something?

**WOOOOOOSSHHHH!** Went Christmas Sturm's Sled-Mobile as it flew towards the site of Hawke's Coffe Stash. The red-and-white, high-tech, tripped out snow sled performed a loop-the-loop, three barrel rolls, and corkscrewed towards the ground, while inside the cockpit-

"AHHHHH! WHERE'S THAT DAMNED MANUAL!"

Christmas Sturm lost complete control of the situation.

Whoops.

T-T-T-T-

On the ground, things were a whole different barrel of monkeys.

_Well, Flak's an ape, so I guess that dexription sorta fits._

"**FLAK SMASH PUNY SOLDIERS!"**

The massive, green hulk of muscle thudded its way towards the main entrance to the warehouse complex. Orange Star soldiers were firing at Flak, but the bullets were bouncing straight off, hitting their comrades and flinging them off the screen.

_That's the drawback of Advance Wars. There's no actual death, they just get blown clear._

"**HUH?"** The Flak paused, stopped, and looked up at the sky, where a small red dot was getting bigger and bigger, accompanied with a high-pitched whistling noise.

"**WHAT THAT?"**

T-T-T-T- **  
**

On board the Sled-Mobile...

"I'M GONNA DIE HORRIBLY AND GET SPREAD OVER TENS OF SQUARE METERS!" By the looks of it, Christmas Sturm had completely freaked out. Releasing his grip from the controls of the sled, he crawled into a corner and whimpered.

"Wait...is that Flak?"

**CRAAASSSSHHHHH!**

T-T-T-T- **  
**

Adder cringed as the Sled-Mobile and The Flak disappeared in a firey explosion. He scurried closer, wanting to verify that Flak was actually dead, because everyone hated him anyway. Peering over the edge of the crater, he gasped.

"Oh crapbags..."

In the center was Flak, back to his normal self and lying face-down in the ground, his clothes blackened and scorched. Sitting calmly on his back and humming a happy little tune was-

"Adder! I haven't seen you since I was brutally and dishonourably slain by Hawke!" Christmas Sturm waved happily, completely unfazed about the carnage around him. He stood up, brushed himself off, and climbed up to Adder, skipping happily a few times. Adder, on the other hand, was completely silent.

"...How...how did you-"

"How did I come back to life? And how did both Flak and myself survive that horrible collision?" Christmas Sturm paused. "Hmm, that is quite a conundrum." The Snifit superhero stayed paused as he worked out the sequence of events in his head.

"Well?" Adder said. "We have got a Coffee Stash to recapture, you know."

"Yes, yes, I know. Hmm...Well, when Hawke backstabbed me like a cowardly little piece of cra-"

"AHEM!" Adder coughed.

"What?"

"Fic rating..."

"...Oh. Anyways, after Hawke wimped out and killed me, I blacked out. When I woke up, there was fire all around me, and manical laughter and stuff."

Adder regarded Christmas Sturm with shock. "You went to Hell!"

"No! It was Shigeru Miyamoto's office."

"Ah. Makes sense."

_Oh sure, blame the bad guys never dying on the head of Nintendo. Smart._

"Miyamoto said, 'Sturm! You cannot die! You must go back! But not to be bad! No! You must return as superhero!'"

"...Did he really shout like that all the time?"

"Yes, yes he did. Being a god, he can do that sort of thing. After that, I woke up at my new home at the North Pole, dressed like a Christmas tree. After being ridiculed by the Author, I flew to Black Hole, and tried to kill Hawke. But I was foiled by lunchtime...my mortal enemy..."

Adder looked at Christmas Sturm funny. "Your mortal enemy is lunchtime?"

Christmas Sturm shook his head. "No, Hawke is my mortal enemy."

"But didn't you just say-"

"Well, it's obvious _someone_ doesn't understand how this fic works."

T-T-T-T-

Leonard Nimoy scowled. "Sorry, no horribly accurate measuing from me today. I'm busy starring in a Star Trek episode."

A pause.

"No, I'm not disappearing in a funny way either! GET OFF MY LAND!"

T-T-T-T-

Adder sighed. "Sooo...how did you survive it?" Christmas Sturm looked confused.

"Survive what?"

"THAT!" Adder screamed, pointing at the massive, scorched crater, littered with wreckage, in front of them. Christmas Sturm grinned, looking up in the air.

"Wow! There's sky on this side of me as well! Well, ain't that a doozy?"

"Jesus...you're either old and senile, stupid, or both."

"Oh! THAT crater. Well, y'see, I was in my Sled-Mobile, flying towards this place to SAVE THE DAY!" Christmas Sturm accompanied this shout with a heroic gesture. You know, hands on hips, chest thrust out, looking towards the sky, et cetera.

"...Right. But how did you survive the crash?"

Christmas Sturm paused. "Huh?" Adder sighed.

"You crashed into The Flak at the speed of sound, in a heavily armed flying vehicle. The intial explosions should have vaporised you both, and the flying shrapnel would have shredded whatever was left of you!"

A pause. Christmas Sturm twitched slightly then turned to Adder. "Dammit! Don't EVER apply logic to my actions! It'll only screw me up!" He said. Stroking his metallic chin with a metallic hand, he thought.

_If that is at all possible._

"I guess...seeing as Flak's a bad guy, and I'm an important character, we can't actually die."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure! Now let's go recapture that stash so that everyone can forget about this ominous, foreboding subplot!"

Adder groaned. "Whatever..."

"TAKE OFF EVERY CO! FOR GREAT JUSTICE!" And with that brutal rape of the English language, Adder and Christmas Sturm ran towards the warehouses...

T-T-T-T-

_A few minutes later..._

Flak groaned and stirred, rolling over onto his back, and sitting up.

"Duh...too much Lash Candy's bad for me."

T-T-T-T-

_A few more minutes later..._

"YES! We recpatured the coffee stash!" Adder cried.

_HAH! You thought you were going to get some action scenes, didn't ya? HAH! SUCKS TO BE YOU!_

"Now Hawke won't send us to do dumb stuff anymore!" Cried an equally jubilant Flak.

"We did it!" shouted a jolly Christmas Sturm! "FOR GREAT-"

"DON'T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT SAYING THAT!" Both Adder and Flak yelled in unison.

"Fine, fine...well, at least my first job as a superhero is done. TO THE SKIES!" And with that lame final remark, Christmas Sturm flew off into the sunset. Adder looked confused.

"Wait...if he can fly, why did he use his Sled-Mobile in the first place?"

T-T-T-T-

End of Chapter 6

Shade leaned back, cracked his fingers, and sighed happily.

"It's good to be back."

T-T-T-T-

Author Note: And yes, it is good indeed to be back. Next chapter will probably be a pointless little one, as I set myself up for the next story arc. Until next time!


End file.
